Good Directions
by SapphireEJ
Summary: Rachel is lost and Puck's the one to give her some directions. AU. One-shot  or is it?  for fic table prompt #16 - Lost. Right now, there are no spoilers, but if I do continue this, there might be.


Title: Good Directions  
Series: none, but this one-shot might turn into more.  
Fic Table prompt: #16 - Lost (table at my journal here: ( sapphiresfic . livejournal . com/ 31402 . html )).  
Summary: Rachel is lost and Puck's the one to give her some directions. AU. One-shot (or is it?) for fic table prompt #16 - Lost. Right now, there are no spoilers, but if I do continue this, there might be.

Disclaimer: I am just borrowing them for the fun of writing, BUT I do own the plot, ideas and original characters. I do not own the title or the song lyrics featured; they are the same as the song 'Good Directions' by Billy Currington.  
A/N: I edited this, so all mistakes are mine.  
A/N2: Feedback keeps me writing, so please comment or review. :D

...

A/N3: I have been in love with cowboys and farmers since I was a teen. Knowing that Mark is from Dallas, we got to see him dressed up as a cowboy in 'Last Name' and he had a cowboy hat on in 'My Life Would Suck Without You' makes me love him even more! I've always wanted to write a cowboy/farmer fic centered around Billy Currington's song 'Good Directions' (it's been in my 'to put in a fic' playlist on iTunes), but I didn't get any inspiration until I saw a posting of Mark's whole backside, in 'Last Name', dressed in the cowboy outfit. Total shout out to GoingVintage for writing/posting a farmer!Puck fic first, her one-shot 'Both Sides of the Fence' is now a WIP and is awesome, and I've talked to her and asked her if it was alright that I write this. She's cool with it, so here's my cowboy/farmer!Puck fic.

...

Rachel glanced at the vast fields to her left and right, on a two lane road in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, "you're lost, Rachel, admit it," she said out loud, "this is your stupid idea anyway." With a sigh, she mentally berated herself for her decision. She was driving from Columbus, Ohio, where her dads live, to New York City, where she lives and acts on Broadway. "You wanted an adventure," she continued to speak to her empty car, "you told daddy you didn't need a GPS and you have a map and you printed out directions from the internet from Ohio to New York, but no one even thought of construction!" She exclaimed, hitting her hand on the steering wheel and then glanced at the folded map in the passenger seat, "you'd help if I knew where I was!" She snapped at the inanimate paper.

Somewhere along the highway in Pennsylvania, the road was being worked on, so they were redirecting cars off the main road and onto smaller country roads to bypass the construction, so she followed a car in front of her, thinking they were being redirected, but about ten minutes of following them, they turned off and she continued on, seeing them stopping and getting mail from a box on the side of the road, so she realized they lived there. At that moment she was stuck. She knew if she turned back she'd come right to the same spot she'd gotten off the highway at, and she'd left Ohio at eight that morning, "okay, so the next town you come to, just stop for a late lunch and ask directions back to the highway," she told herself.

...

_I was sittin' there sellin' turnips on a flatbed truck  
__Crunchin' on a pork rind when she pulled up  
__She had to be thinkin' "this is where Rednecks come from"  
__She had [Broadway] written on her license plate  
__She was lost and lookin' for the interstate  
__Needin' directions and I was the man for the job_

...

Puck sat on the back of his old Ford truck, his guitar in his lap, a bag of pork rinds next to him and his Black Labrador, Killer, was curled up on the gravel next to the truck in the shade, "Killer, remind me again why I'm doing this?" He asked her, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The black lab cocked her head at his voice and barked loudly, and he rolled his eyes, "that's right, because mom didn't sell all of the damn turnips to the store so she could sell them like this," he dug a pork rind out of the back and broke it in half, tossing half to her. "_I'm a bad Jew,_" he thought as he bit into the other half, when he noticed Killer was staring at something.

Tipping his cowboy hat to block the sun, he looked down the road to see a car in the distance, approaching them. "Now I know what you barked at, good girl," he tossed her the rest of his pork rind and set his guitar down on the bed of the truck, wondering if whoever it was would stop.

As the silver sedan got larger, and surprisingly pulled to the side of the road near him and the first things he noticed was it was the drive was a girl, her license plate was from Ohio and it read 'Brdway'. "Broadway?" He wondered, curious just what the hell a girl from Ohio was doing on a back country road in the middle of Pennsylvania. "She's gonna think I'm a Redneck," he told Killer, who was now sitting at his feet, ready to protect him if necessary.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel debated stopping for directions, but she was getting hungry and this man and his dog were the first sign of life she'd seen for miles since she'd turned off the first road she'd been on, so she prayed he wasn't some serial killer and pushed her door open and climbed out, adjusting her skirt before she closed her door and walked towards him.

Puck hopped down off the bed of his truck and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans as he took in the girl before him; she was beautiful, nothing like he'd seen before. She had long legs, being shown off by a skirt that looked almost too short, her black tank top was form fitting and her long brunette hair was falling over her shoulders and as she looked up, he saw her brown eyes. Seeing her stirred something inside of him. "Howdy," he greeted, but Killer next to him began to growl and bark at her. "Heel, girl," he snapped and she settled right down at his side, but kept a watchful eye on this other person.

Rachel jumped at the dog when it barked, and stopped, unsure if she should continue, "um, hello."

"Somehow I don't think you're here to buy turnips," he joked, trying to break the nervous tension.

"No, I apologize, but I am not," she admitted, "is it safe?" She motioned to the dog.

"What? Killer? Ah, she's harmless, nothing like her name," he promised.

"Okay," Rachel stepped forward, getting a chance to look at him, the gray t-shirt he wore was showing off his very well toned muscles, his face was mostly shaded by a black cowboy hat, worn from use, the boots on his feet worn just the same, and his jeans were clean, yet had a few faded spots from age. Something inside of her woke up, but she pushed it off as curiosity, "I," she blushed, "I'm lost," she admitted.

"You don't say," he laughed lightly, "let me guess, the construction on the 70 redirected you off the interstate and now you don't know how to get back?" He offered lightly.

She nodded, "yes, that would be correct. I followed someone I thought was doing the same thing, but they turned off a while back, and I saw a sign for a town, but I have yet to run across it, so when I saw you, I hoped you could help me," she admitted.

"I'm surprised your car doesn't have a GPS unit," he replied.

Rachel blushed, "my daddy suggested I get one, but I didn't think I'd have a problem. I never expected there to be construction on the interstate."

"No worries," he took off his hat and wiped his brow a little, "I'll always help a pretty lady in distress."

...

_I told her way up yonder past the caution light  
__There's a little country store with an old Coke sign  
__You gotta stop in and ask Miss [Deb] for some of her sweet tea  
__Then a left will take you to the interstate  
__But a right will bring you right back here to me_

...

"Now the road'll curve a little to your right at the caution light, but just past there is the store," he promised.

"So just stay on this road until I come to a 'T' and make sure I make a left?" She asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled with a nod.

"Thank you so much," she replied holding out her hand to him.

He shook her hand with a smile, feeling her soft skin against his calloused fingers. As their hands parted, he tipped his hat to her, "you're welcome."

...

_I was sittin' there thinkin' 'bout her pretty face  
__Kickin' myself for not catchin' her name  
__I threw my hat and thought, "You fool, that could've been love"  
__I knew my old Ford couldn't run her down  
__She probably didn't like me anyhow  
__So I watched her disappear in a cloud of dust._

_I told her way up yonder past the caution light  
__There's a little country store with an old Coke sign  
__You gotta stop in and ask Miss [Deb] for some of her sweet tea  
__Then a left will take you to the interstate  
__But a right will bring you right back here to me_

...

Watching her silver car pull away from the gravel along the shoulder, the wheels kicked up large cloud of dust and after a few moments, the dust cloud was all that was left of her, that and the soft touch of her hand against his that lingered from when they shook hands and the memory of her body mere feet from him.

Puck looked at Killer, took his hat off and wiped his brow. Getting frustrated, he threw the hat on the ground and kicked it a few feet away, "damn it! I didn't even ask for her name," he snapped. "I'll never be able to catch up with her in this old truck," he motioned to his Ford.

Killer got up and went for his hat, picking it up and returning to him with it.

"Good girl," he smiled, rubbing her head affectionately as he took his hat and shook the dust off, "she was beautiful," he told Killer.

The dog whimpered a little and stepped closer to him and he smirked, "but no one is as beautiful as you are," he put his hat back on and then knelt down to play with her, scratching behind her ears and letting her lick his cheek, "you're always my first love, well you, mom and sis," he added.

Standing back up, Puck hopped up on his truck and scooted into the bed, leaning back on a turnip box and patted next to him. Killer jumped up and curled up next to him and he set his hat over his face so he wouldn't burn too bad and closed his eyes, figuring if he was out there, he might as well get some shut eye.

...

_Is this [Penn State] heat playin' tricks on me,  
__Or am I really seein' what I think I see,  
__The woman of my dreams comin' back to me?_

...

Killer's barking at something, woke him up from a very good dream. "Dude, dog, what is it?" Puck groaned, pushing his hat off his face to sit up a little and looked at what she was focused on. Off in the distance was a car coming from down the road and she kept barking, "shut the fuck up dog, it's just a car. I know you've seen those before."

He settled back the way he had been and covered his face with his hat, but Killer kept barking so he sat up and realized the car was parking along the road near him. He blinked his eyes a few times and focused on the license plate, seeing the red, white and blue plate of Ohio, and then the letters on it, 'Brdway'. "Are you shittin' me?" He rubbed his eyes and wiped the sweat from his forehead, thinking the heat was making him see things, but as he looked at the driver, he saw the girl he'd met about an hour prior, and she had also stared in his dream just moments ago, and as she walked over to him, he realized it wasn't a dream or the heat.

Scrambling out of the back of his truck, he hopped down and put his hat on his head, "um, you're back, did you take a wrong turn?" He asked, unsure.

...

_She went way up yonder past the caution light  
__Don't know why, but somethin' felt right  
__When she stopped in and asked Miss [Deb] for some of her sweet tea  
__Mama gave her a big 'ol glass and sent her right back here to me_

...

"I stopped at the country store, and met Miss Deb," she commented, holding out a glass to him, "your mom thought you might want this," she added.

He smirked, taking the glass from her, "thank you," he took a swig, "I take it you realized she was my mom."

"Yes, I did. She said she usually isn't at the store, but knew I had asked you for directions because I was there," she replied.

"I did," he smiled, "normally, she stays at the farm, but a few days a week she's at the store. I knew she was there today," he explained.

She stepped forward and smiled, "your mom seems really nice. I'm Rachel, by the way," she said holding out her hand.

"Noah, but my friends call me Puck," he replied, shaking her hand and then lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on it, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

The blush on her cheeks grew as she looked at their joined hands, warmth building inside of her that was not from the heat, "It's nice to meet you, Noah," she grinned lightly.

As their hands broke apart, he immediately missed the contact from her and covered it up quickly by downing the rest of the glass of tea and set the cup on the bed of the truck. "So, I gotta ask, why did you come back?"

She took a deep breath and smiled, "have you ever felt something new and it's a feeling you don't want to let go?" She asked, and at his nod, she continued, "I feel something for you and I don't want to leave yet," she admitted, staring at his hazel eyes under the brim of his hat.

Puck took his hat off and set it next to his glass, and then stepped closer to her, "I don't want you to leave either," he whispered, and then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him and pressing his lips against hers and an intense kiss; there was something about this woman and he was not going to let her go until he figured it out.

...

_Thank God for good directions and turnip greens._

...

A/N4: Lyrics used and title is: 'Good Directions' by Billy Currington. I do not own them.

A/N5: Is this a one-shot or do you want to read more? Read/review and let me know what you think!

A/N6: Puck's dog is after my dad's first dog he had when he was a kid, growing up on a farm in Minnesota. He had a female black lab, named Killer, so this is in memory of her.

A/N7: Written in 7 hours today.

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End file.
